Until Death
by dexellister
Summary: Gently putting down the bouquet of red tulips, the young man tries his best to prevent his tears from falling, but to no avail. He takes a deep breath. "I'll always love you. Forever and ever." :: Not good at summaries. ::


Blaine sighed as he stared down the open books on his table. He had spent almost the whole day locked up inside his room. Teachers were giving a whole lot more homework as compared to the usual load. Maybe it was because exams were just around the corner. Or maybe it was just because they were being sadistic.

Leaning back against his chair, the soloist locked his eyes on the ceiling.

"I wonder… what Kurt's doing right now," Blaine muttered absently. Said boy had gone back to Lima for the weekend to catch up with his friends from New Directions. While it'd been only a little over a few hours since Kurt left, Blaine couldn't stop himself from missing the younger boy. Even though he knew that Kurt would be back on Sunday.

He wanted to hear Kurt's wonderful voice.

He wanted to see Kurt's beautiful face.

He wanted to hold that angelic boy close, even if it was just as friends.

Blaine shook his head. _I need to stop thinking like this._ He yawned and looked at the clock; its bright neon lights read 11:36. Running a hand through his messy un-gelled hair, Blaine lazily stood up from his seat and piled his books. He grabbed a random shirt and sweatpants from his dresser and changed out of his clothes.

A few urgent knocks on the door caught his attention. He raised an eyebrow. Who could be awake at this time?

"Who is it...?" Blaine's voice trailed off. Looking up at him was a pair of green eyes he knew so well that it would be a crime not to recognize whose it was.

"Kurt?"

The countertenor appeared pale, as if he'd seen a ghost. His eyes were unfocused and dark. His lips were near-blue. And he was thinner. Significantly thinner, considering that the clothes he wore were loose. Tears started to roll down Kurt's cheeks, snapping Blaine out of the shock of seeing the boy in such a state.

Blaine led Kurt inside the room. "What happened to you?" he asked as he held the younger boy against his chest. "I… I don't know. I just… just…" The reply was cut off by delicate sobs. Patting Kurt's back gently, Blaine pressed his lips to the other's hair. "Shh… It's alright… Let it all out… I'm here." he cooed softly. As much as he wanted to press for at least _one_ answer, Blaine knew he shouldn't. He couldn't.

Almost half an hour passed and Kurt's tears finally subsided. He rubbed his eyes, color coming back to him. "I-I'm sorry for disturbing you. Coming in here without a word and not even telling why." Blaine smiled and patted Kurt's knee, mentally sighing in relief.

"No problem. I'm actually very glad that you approached me out of all the other friends you have." he replied calmly, even though his heart was near to jumping out of his chest in bliss.

Kurt smiled back, his eyes shining.

"By the way, aren't you supposed to be back at Lima?"

The color disappeared from Kurt again.

"Yeah, I know… But I missed you too much."

"Really?" Blaine silently thanked the dim lighting of his room. He didn't want Kurt to see his face flaring red.

"Yeah. You don't believe me?"

"Of course I do. I was just surprised."

The countertenor smiled again and then glanced at the clock. "Wow. I didn't even realize the time."

He stood up, fixing his hair a little as he did so. "I better go back to my room. Sorry for imposing."

Blaine pouted as Kurt made for the door, sad because of the loss of contact. "I told you. It's no problem." he answered.

"Oh yeah, Blaine?" Said boy jumped onto his feet when he heard his name being called. "Hm?"

The light-haired boy approached him, standing so close that their noses almost touched. Blaine held his breath, afraid that he might blurt out something unnecessary and embarrassing. Arms rose to drape themselves around the other's neck.

"I love you"—Kurt brushed his soft lips against Blaine's—"ever since the first day we met."

If Blaine had thought that his blush before was fierce, now it was raging. Every rational thought evaporated in an instant once he returned the kiss. After all the time he had waited for the right moment to confess, it had come at last. Although this was never the way Blaine had pictured it to be. He'd thought it to be more, much more romantic. However… _This will do._

They pulled apart, out of breath and faces flushed. "I… love you too. You don't have an idea of how much I've wanted to do this, to say…"

Kurt laughed quietly as he pressed his lips to Blaine's once again, one way he'd just found to shut the senior up effectively.

"So does this mean…?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Kurt whispered teasingly, his voice low as if not wanting anyone to hear. Wrapping his arms around the other's slender waist, Blaine chuckled.

"I love you."

"I know. I heard the first time."

Blaine beamed. "I just want to express my feelings so that you can understand clearly that I love you more than anything I have ever loved before. And that's a _lot_ of stuff."

Another smile. Kurt extracted himself from Blaine's embrace. "I better get back _now_." he said.

"See you tomorrow?" the soloist asked. Sorrow flashed in Kurt's green eyes for a moment before being replaced by contentment. He nodded. "Sure."

* * *

The loud sound of a door slamming open woke Blaine, causing him to fall off the edge of his bed. He blinked as two familiar faces came into view.

"Hey sleepyhead."

"What the…? Has knocking even been invented in the time period you guys came from?" Blaine snapped, grouchy from being woken up by a perfectly good dream about a certain Kurt Hummel, awkward first dates and kisses. "Knocking? I _think_ I've heard of that word…" David muttered jokingly.

The latter Warbler reached out a hand for Blaine to grab. "So, do you guys have a rational reason for making me fall off the bed at 8:29 AM on a Sunday?" Blaine asked. Wes held up his iPhone to eye level, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading across his face. The soloist squinted, his cheeks turning red and redder as he read the message displayed:

_Please smack Blaine out of Dreamland. I've been waiting for him to call me since an hour ago. When you do, tell him that I love him more than anything in the whole wide world. Except for the Marc Jacobs jacket he gave me last week. – Kurt_

Wes shrugged as David snatched the phone and started to type a reply. "Would it have been such a bother to tell your best most annoying friends? It hurts that we weren't updated. Especially on this matter." Wes says, pretending to cry. "I mean, we _all_ were ready to put Operation Klaine into action."

"Operation _Klaine_?" Blaine incredulously repeated. "They all knew? Why did you—"

"The constant eyesex during practice definitely did not give it away, Blaine." David said sarcastically as he swung an arm around Blaine's shoulder. "Oh, don't forget that time when Blaine wore suspenders 24/7 for a whole month just because Kurt said he loved those things." Wes spoke teasingly, elbowing the tenor in the ribs.

Slapping a hand to his forehead, Blaine started to wonder why he was still friends with these two clowns when his phone began to play 'Teenage Dream'. A picture of a fair-skinned boy with light brown hair and brilliant green eyes smiling showed on the screen, with the words 'Incoming Call' underneath it. Blaine immediately pressed the send button and put the phone to his ear. "Kurt! Hey! Sorry for not…" his voice trailed off as he realized no one was on the other side of the line.

All Blaine could hear was his own voice echoing. He glanced at the screen.

_Connected_

_0:14_

"Hello? Kurt? Anybody there?" Still no answer. Blaine looked nervously at the other boys, brow furrowing with concern. A finger hesitantly hovered over the end button. _Push._

"What's wrong?" David asked as he read Blaine's expression. The soloist breathed heavily. "I have the feeling Kurt's in trouble…" he muttered unsurely, hand shaking around his phone.

"What do you mean? He just replied to my text. I asked how he's doing at Lima. Said that he's fine and happy like crazy with his old glee club and family." Wes said. "He's still…? But I… last night…" The words on Blaine's tongue tumbled out of his mouth, making the other boys laugh hysterically. "You've messed up your head bad. You can't even differentiate dreams from reality." The soloist's face flared red from embarrassment.

Which made him think back. Kurt coming to his room the previous night—_and confessing_—was real, right? He didn't just nod off to sleep, right?

It had all felt so genuine: their warm bodies meshing together as they ravished each other's mouth, that lighthearted smile, and that soft voice in his ear. The only part that seemed surreal was the I-love-you's. Whether it was a dream or not, Blaine didn't know—_exactly_.

Blaine looked at his 'friends' and found them _still_ laughing, hands clutching their stomachs at the lack of oxygen.

"It isn't even that funny!"

The two immediately stopped. "It is for us." Wes replied. "You'll probably never understand. But, don't worry. It's nothing to be troubled about."

As Blaine opened his mouth to respond, David suddenly threw his arms up in the air as he shouted, "Too much talk, too little food! Let's go, _now_." He pushed the others out the door. "Talk of certain countertenors can wait till after breakfast." David snapped when Blaine tried to object. The latter sighed. Oh well.

* * *

The morning passed in a blur, thanks to a nerf battle and a game of Super Mario Kart at David's room. All the while, Blaine couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was wrong.

Almost every few minutes, he found himself spacing out, thinking of Kurt and what the boy was most likely doing at the moment. Or what his chances of slipping away unnoticed to Lima would be.

"Although I've never promised not to interfere with your pining over Hummel, may I ask politely _what the hell is wrong with you_?" Wes silently yelled at the soloist, his voice loud enough only for the three of them to hear. Not that there were much people to listen in to their conversation. "Because, either your brain is malfunctioning, or you're pouring too much neurons into thinking about that kid. He's _fine_, Blaine." His tone clearly showed his irritation.

Blaine sighed. "I know. It's just… there's this nagging feeling at the back of my head that's saying something wrong's happened." he replied uneasily, slouching. "It can't be helped since I'm in love with the guy. It's only natural. Besides… That call from him earlier…" Dropping his head into his hands, Blaine tried to subdue the negative thoughts that came rushing. Images flashed in his mind.

Karofsky holding Kurt's phone.

Kurt in a car accident.

Kurt getting mugged. Or worse.

The uneasiness that settled around his body like a blanket made him decide. "I'm going to Lima." Blaine said, standing up from his seat.

David jumped to his feet at the soloist's words. "What! You can't be serious, Blaine. He's coming back in like"—he glanced at his watch—"less than an hour from now. Can't you wait?"

Wes pushed Blaine back down. "One hour minus two hours is equal to _wasting your time_. Sit in your room and eat some Red Vines. Watch a movie, any movie. Trust me, it will help you relax."

The expression on Blaine's face changed from determination to defeat. He knew that Wes and David were telling the obvious truth. He knew that he was being paranoid. And above all, he knew that he was stressed. _Maybe I'm just getting all this wrong._

"You're right. You're… absolutely right. I should wait for Kurt to arrive. I'm being too… too…" Blaine trailed off as he tried to think of the right word to say.

"Obsessed?" Wes suggested teasingly. "Took the word right out of my mouth." David muttered, bumping fists with Wes, goofy grins plastered onto their faces.

* * *

_If you could see that I'm the one who understands you_

_Been here all along, so why can't you see_

_You belong with me, you belong with me_

Blaine belted the last few lyrics out passionately, his voice loud and 'annoying as hell' as Wes had put it..

David covered his ears, his expression distorting to one of mock pain, as Teenage Dream started to play on the speakers. "What the heck! Please, Blaine, anything but that!" he almost screamed, but the soloist took no notice of the complaint.

_You think I'm pretty without any makeup on_

_You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong_

_I know you get me so I let my walls come down, down_

The music suddenly died off, leaving the room in silence. Wes held the plug to Blaine's laptop triumphantly. "I was just starting to get into the song!" Blaine whined. "Too bad for you." David said, standing up from his seat on the bed. He glanced outside the window, then to the electric clock at Blaine's side table.

"Kurt still not here yet? Weird. Thought he'd _want_ to come home to see his preciously beloved soloist that 'doesn't have any fashion sense'."

An alarmed expression crossed said boy's face, before David's words sank in. "Hey!"

Wes chuckled. "Can't blame us for telling the truth. Besides, Kurt's the one that said that. He always complains about that blazer you know."

Blaine huffed. "Whatever." he muttered, slightly irritated. Pulling out his phone, the soloist dialed Kurt's home number. Seconds passed and a rough voice—belonging to a boy that seemed to be no older than him—answered. _Must be Finn_, he thought, remembering the countertenor's step-brother. _"Hummel-Hudson household. Who is it?"_

"Uh, hi. This is Blaine Anderson, Kurt's friend. Is he there?"

"_Kurt's friend? Oh. N-no. Sorry. He left, like… two hours ago. You're not my bro's boyfriend are you?"_

Blaine blushed at the question. "What? No! No. I'm just a friend," he replied, emphasizing the last three words.

"_Oh. Good. I just thought.. you know."_ Finn cleared his throat. _"I-uh… Kurt—"_

"_Finn!"_ another voice from the other side of the line shouted, tone alarmed and overtly panicking.

"_Uh… Please wait a second."_ the teen said.

"Sure."

A few moments passed and Blaine suddenly felt his throat locking up, suddenly forgot how to breathe as he listened in to the nearly inaudible conversation going on over at Lima.

'Kurt', 'car' and 'accident' were the only words Blaine needed to launch himself off the bed and out the door with his car keys in one hand and a jacket in the other.

"What the hell man?" David shouted after him.

"Blaine! Where are you going?" Wes yelled, irritated at the soloist's sudden action.

Blaine turned around, jogging backwards; the distressed expression on his face told both his friends of the reason.

* * *

_"I love you... You know that, right?"_

_Blaine smiles bitterly as he reaches out a hand to touch the gravestone in front of him. Gently putting down the bouquet of red tulips, the young man tries his best to prevent his tears from falling, but to no avail. He takes a deep breath. "I'll always love you. Forever and ever."_

_The wind blows against him soothingly, a voice whispering in his ear. __**I love you, too.**_

_Blaine feels a pang of sorrow hit his heart as he hears—or at least he thinks he does—Kurt say to him those three words he'd longed for the boy to say nearly three years ago. More tears stream down his cheeks. He starts to sing, nostalgia beginning to replace the grief he felt in his chest._

My heart stops  
When you look at me

_Blaine reminisces the times when he and Kurt would exchange glances from across the room and the younger boy would smile brightly. Fleeting looks that always sent his heart fluttering in joy._

Just one touch  
Now baby I believe

_And that time when they first met. Running through the hallways, hand in hand, excitement blossoming in both of them._

This is real  
So take a chance  
And don't ever look back

_One last look. _One_ last look, before he leaves and never comes back. Blaine doesn't want to _not_ come back, but he knows he has to. Kurt wouldn't have wanted him wallowing in self-pity. The young man lets out a deep breath and slowly stands up, all the while never tearing his eyes from the gravestone._

**"**_**Don't ever look back."**_

_Hugging his jacket closer, Blaine whispers a last 'I love you' and walks away._

_

* * *

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**A/N:** The very first Klaine fanfic I made but was too lazy to actually post! Yay for finally finishing it [somehow?]! Oneshot! …

I made this last January, while I was drowning myself in Klaine fanfiction and fanart while waiting for the Superbowl episode. It was just something that kind of… popped up into my head. I'm sorry if this is disappointing. I _did_ only make this out of complete and utter boredom. :D

Review please?

Oh yeah, I forgot. -insert disclaimer here-


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